It Began With a Lie: A gripping psychological thriller (Secrets of Redemption Book 1)

by Michele PW (Pariza Wacek)

  Something else. The cold lump in my stomach traveled up my spine, and I shivered.

  “So, why that day? What made us do the séance?”

  Daphne took a deep breath and looked at the table. “Because of what I saw.” She raised her head and looked at me. “Look, both Mia and I thought it was entirely possible that the house was haunted. I had felt … something, on more than one occasion while I was there.” She shivered. “But with your headaches and the forgetfulness—we weren’t really sure what to believe.”

  “You were getting paranoid, too,” Mia added. “Especially that last week or so. You were sure you were being watched. You didn’t feel like you could trust anyone besides us. And it was clear you weren’t sleeping well.”

  Daphne opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but then she suddenly shut it, shaking her head like she had changed her mind. I was about to question her when she started talking again. “Anyway, back to the séance. Before we did it, we were alone in the house. CB had taken off to hang out with the guys. I met him at the door when I was coming in. I’m pretty sure you never said anything to CB about any of this, even after the séance.”

  CB. I had forgotten he was there. But of course he was. He must have also been at the party the night Jessica disappeared.

  Daphne continued. “Charlie had left to go drop some tea and herbs off to someone in another town. You and I were in the kitchen getting something to eat, when I got up to use the bathroom.”

  She swallowed, reached out to play with her fork. “I was walking through the living room, near the stairs, when something caught my attention. I’m still not sure if it was something I heard, or just felt, but I stopped and looked around. That was when I felt it—a pocket of cool air. I took a step forward, looking around, and that was when I finally looked up the stairs.”

  She stopped and took another deep breath. “It’s hard to explain, but it was like this white puff of air. It was floating on the landing upstairs. I watched it, blinked, and it shot forward, toward the room we did the séance in, and disappeared.”

  A white puff of air. Like a scrap of white nightgown disappearing into a bedroom. I could taste the cold fear in my throat, and I gagged on it. I thought I might be physically sick.

  Mia was looking at Daphne in awe. “Why did you agree to do a séance after that? I would have gotten the hell out of there!”

  Daphne laughed, a bit self-consciously. “Well, yeah, that was one of my first thoughts. But the main thing going through my head was that Becca was right all along—there WAS something in the house. And if she was right about that, she was probably right about it trying to contact her.”

  “I saw that,” I said through numb lips. “That first night. Remember, I told you all at the bar—I thought it was Chrissy’s nightgown flowing behind her, as she went back into her room. But she wasn’t wearing a white nightgown.”

  Daphne nodded unhappily.

  “So, if the ghost is back,” Mia said. “Maybe it has another message for you. Maybe we need to do another séance.”

  Both Daphne and I shook our heads. “One séance was enough, thank you,” Daphne said.

  “Yeah, but it may be important,” Mia insisted. “Look, Chrissy is sleepwalking and having these cryptic conversations with you. This is serious. I think we need to do something.”

  “I’m not sure a séance will answer our questions,” I said. “It’s not like we got a real helpful answer before.”

  “Well, then maybe we bring a psychic to the house,” Mia said.

  Daphne groaned. “Not Antonia.”

  Mia looked defensive. “Why not her? She has the Gift.”

  “Who’s Antonia?’ I asked.

  “She’s a psychic. Or at least, that’s what she calls herself,” Daphne said.

  “She IS a psychic,” Mia said firmly. “She’s even helped the police on a few cases.”

  “If you call bringing a lot of attention to yourself without actually getting a lot of results ‘helping,’” Daphne said, putting air quotes around the word helping. “Then, sure, she’s your gal.”

  Mia made a face. “I still think she could help. Plus, she and Charlie were friends.”

  “Yeah, well, Charlie had lots of friends,” Daphne said, digging around in her purse. “As fun as this was, I’d better get going. My mom will be expecting me.”

  “Yeah, I’d better get going too,” I said. As I had been vague about my plans with Chrissy, I didn’t want to push it and have her get suspicious about what I’d been doing. As I reached for the check, I started sneezing.

  Daphne glanced at me. “You know, you had allergies back when you were sixteen, too. Have you thought about getting some allergy medicine?”

  I blew my nose. “Oh, allergies? I thought I was having a reaction to all the dust in the house. I didn’t have allergies in New York.”

  “Do they even have anything green in New York to give you allergies?” Mia asked.

  I frowned and waved the waitress over, so I could get a box for my half-eaten salad. “I never thought of that.”

  As the waitress came over, I noticed two women, both who appeared to be in their forties, staring at me from across the bar. They didn’t look very happy. Actually, on closer examination, they were out-and-out glaring at me.

  If looks could kill …

  I leaned forward, trying to keep my head down so they couldn’t see me. “Mia,” I said quietly. “Why do I keep running into women in this town who seem to hate me?”

  Mia looked up, startled. “What? Who hates you?”

  “Well, I don’t know if they hate me or not, but they sure glare at me,” I nodded to the women.

  Mia craned her neck to look over at them, and then snorted a dismissal. “Oh, that’s just Brenda Tully and Annette Johnson. Don’t worry about them.”

  “But, why would they look at me like that? I’ve never done anything to them. I don’t even know them.”

  Mia fished out her wallet from her purse. “No, but your aunt did.”

  “Remember, you’re living in The Witch’s House now,” Daphne said, counting out her cash. “You’re going to get a lot of that.”

  “Yeah, half this town thinks Charlie did something to them—worked some sort of evil hocus pocus on them. The other half love her, sure she saved their health or marriage or something. I’m surprised no one has shown up to see if you’re carrying on the family business,” Mia said.

  Christ. I made a face as I got my wallet out. That’s all I needed—Stefan or Chrissy to answer the door and see one of Charlie’s “clients” on the other side, looking for one of her “cures.” I didn’t even want to think about what Stefan would say. Talk about a distraction from getting the house ready for market.

  “Well, look on the bright side,” Daphne said, sliding out of the booth. “If you need a little extra cash to tide you over, you could always start up where Charlie left off.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, sliding out of the booth myself. Now would be the perfect time to tell them I needed to focus my time and energy on getting the house ready to sell, but somehow, I couldn’t push the words past my lips.

  Daphne smiled as she draped her purse over her shoulder. “I’m serious. I could help you if you want. I did some training with her.”

  I looked at Daphne in surprise. “You did?”

  Daphne shrugged and started heading toward the entrance. “Just the healing part. Mostly herbs, and the tea variations. I’ve been studying a lot of healing modalities. When my mom first started getting sick, I wanted to help her. I discovered I had a knack for it. I take on clients myself from time to time, but I know folks would love to see a descendant of Charlie’s take up the mantle. Even if it was only temporary.”

  “Not happening,” I said as we went outside. Dark clouds had gathered, and the wind had picked up. The air felt th
ick and heavy and smelled like rain, even though no drops had fallen yet. I said my goodbyes and hurried to my car, which was parked in the street in a two-hour zone, digging in my purse for my keys.

  “Bout time you showed up,” a voice said, startling me so much that I dropped my keys. Daniel was lounging against the side of my car, arms crossed, looking relaxed … like he didn’t have a care in the world. Of course, he would be there—like we had just conjured him up, talking about him over lunch.

  I bent over to scoop up my keys, trying unsuccessfully to quash my irritation. I needed to be on my way, not wasting more time dealing with Daniel. “What now, Officer? Stalking me? How did you find me anyway? Or were you just planning to wait until my two hours were up, so you could give me a ticket?”

  He didn’t smile. “What are you hiding?”

  I looked at him in surprise. “Hiding? What are you talking about?”

  “Why else would you get your husband involved, if you weren’t hiding something?”

  “What makes you think that was my idea?”

  He cocked his head. “So, it wasn’t your idea to have him run interference with me?”

  Thunder crackled from a distance. The wind picked up, rustling Daniel’s hair.

  I paused. Was it disrespectful to Stefan if I told Daniel the truth? I opened my mouth to lie, but somehow found the truth coming out instead. “No, it wasn’t.”

  He didn’t say anything, studying me with his dark-blue eyes. Like a cop. Or a predator.

  I felt exposed standing there, with those penetrating eyes on me, like he could see all the way into my soul, laying bare all my secrets, even the ones I couldn’t remember. A cold wind whipped around me, with just a hint of moisture. I shivered.

  “You know he called the station, too,” Daniel said, almost conversationally. “Put in a formal request that I don’t question you without him.”

  “And, yet here you are,” I said. “I see that worked out really well.”

  Daniel shrugged. “You’re not under arrest, nor have you requested me to go through your attorney, so Stefan really doesn’t have a leg to stand on.” He paused and continued to study me. “But, he knows that. So why do you think he’d bother?” He said the words quietly, almost to himself.

  I shrugged. “You’d have to ask him.”

  He straightened from the car, a hint of that predatory smile on his face. “Maybe I’ll do that.” He stepped closer. Even with rain in the air, I could smell the clean scent of his soap. I shivered again as another cold, wet wind whipped against me.

  He noticed, and said, “You may want to head on home. Storm’s a’brewing.”

  “Thanks, Officer Obvious. Appreciate the public service announcement.”

  He shot me a sideways smile, nodded, and sauntered down the street. More thunder crackled from the distance. I watched him go before turning to get into my car.

  My phone buzzed right when I was about to put the key in the ignition. It was Chrissy—she was planning on making dinner, and wanted to know if I would stop and pick a few things up on my way home.

  Chrissy. Sleeping in the same room where Mad Martha killed Nellie, and then herself. I groaned, gently hitting my head against the steering wheel. What on earth was I going to do?

  Chapter 17

  I texted back “Yes, I’ll stop”—I needed to pick up some allergy medicine, and stock up on a few other things anyway. I hadn’t counted on Stefan showing up when he did.

  I pulled into the grocery store parking lot just as big, fat raindrops started plopping onto my windshield. I quickly ducked into the half-empty store.

  As I rounded the corner into produce, I saw Rich, one of Daniel’s friends who had been at the bar with us that night, putting apples into a bag. I moved closer, raising my hand to wave at him. He glanced in my direction, before deliberately turning his back on me and walking away.

  I paused, my hand still up. I was sure he saw me. He’d looked right at me. So, why did he ignore me like that? Was he one of the people who wanted me to go back to New York? Was he only pretending to like me?

  Or maybe he really hadn’t seen me?

  I dropped my hand and went back to filling my cart, pushing away the gnawing sensation that something was off. He probably hadn’t seen me. I was reading too much into it.

  I headed home as it began to pour. Great—not only was I going to get wet, but so were the groceries. Yet another reason to get our belongings unpacked—so we could use the garage as a garage instead of storage.

  Once inside, I shook the water off and put the groceries away. Chrissy wandered in to examine what I’d bought, grunted an approval, and wandered right back out. I debated saying something to her about what I’d learned from my friends at lunch, but I still hadn’t landed on the best way to start the conversation. Maybe I’d have my chance over dinner.

  I had intended on spending the afternoon sorting through stuff and beginning the unpacking and packing process.

  Instead, I found myself cleaning. Again. With a vengeance. Like I was trying to keep myself from thinking.

  It didn’t work.

  Daphne’s words kept running through my head. Was I okay with Stefan simply taking charge of my life without asking me what I wanted?

  When did he start? Or had he always been like that, and I just hadn’t noticed until now?

  I thought back to when we first met. I was still reeling after my divorce. My first husband, Jake, an up-and-coming hotshot attorney whom my mother adored, had been cheating on me with his secretary. SO cliché, but somehow, it didn’t make it any less painful.

  I still remembered how it all went down. Jake worked long hours, and one night, I had decided to surprise him with dinner and maybe a little something extra. Walking through the wood-paneled, stately offices, my brand-new sexy heels clicked on the hardwood floors. I could smell the curry in the Indian takeout I carried, mixed with the smell of old books, leather furnishings, and new money.

  His secretary wasn’t at her desk, but that didn’t surprise me. It was after seven p.m. I gently pushed open the door to his office, my naïve and innocent eyes expecting to see him hard at work behind his desk.

  Instead, I saw him and his secretary on his desk, going at it like a couple of rowdy, half-dressed teenagers.

  I stood there, in utter shock, watching them, the takeout in my hands. I had absolutely no clue. From that day on, I couldn’t bear the smell of curry.

  Jake had always had a bit of wild streak in him—thinking back, I probably shouldn’t have been surprised he wasn’t able to be faithful. Stefan, however, was the complete opposite—which was one of the reasons I was initially attracted to him.

  Stefan was so kind. Well, eventually, he was. Not at first. When I started at the law firm, he basically ignored me unless he needed something, and then he would ask for it in a firm, clipped voice, without even looking at me. I was just one more assistant out of dozens.

  But then one night, everything changed. I was working late, and I stopped by his office to drop off a file. He was still there, as well, so I tapped lightly on the door. He glanced up at me, and gestured for me to come in.

  I moved to the desk to give him the file, when I saw him rub his face with his hands. He looked tired. No, exhausted was more accurate. His face was drawn, his eyes drooped, and he had a five o’clock shadow.

  I paused at his desk, uncertain, wondering if I should say something. There was something vulnerable about him in that moment—a sadness, a loneliness.

  Just as I felt.

  He saw me standing there and looked up. “You’re Rebecca, right?”

  I nodded, taken aback that he actually knew my name.

  He smiled then. “Late night for both of us.”

  His smile literally took my breath away. It lit up his entire face. In that moment, I saw what the other assistants were always
swooning about in the break room.

  I’m pretty sure I said something … for the life of me I’m not sure what. I was so completely lost in that smile—it made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. It had been a long time since a man had made me feel that way.

  “You’ve probably missed dinner, too,” he said. “Want to grab a quick bite?”

  Over dinner that ended up lasting until the wee hours in the morning, I learned that he, too, was divorced. He, too, had a cheating wife. I felt like he understood what I had gone through, because he had gone through it, too.

  And that was the start of our whirlwind romance. At first, we kept our relationship a secret, which made it that much more heady and romantic. Office romances were definitely frowned upon, and as a senior partner, Stefan was expected to set a good example for the rest of the staff. But it didn’t take long before the gossip and rumors started flying—in retrospect, our relationship was so heated and intense at that point, we probably couldn’t have been any more obvious if we had plastered it on a billboard—a passionate kiss in the break room while getting our morning coffee, sex on his desk during lunch and after hours (and one particularly memorable time in the stairwell at two in the afternoon—I don’t think anyone saw us, but I can’t be sure). After a month, Stefan was pressuring me to quit.

  Initially, I resisted. How would I support myself? Although I was living in an apartment my parents owned and was paying them a token amount as rent, I still had to pay for utilities and food, and my meager salary barley covered even that. Stefan invited me to move in with him. But, he had a teenage daughter. How would she react to me living with them?

  Easy, Stefan had said. We’ll get married.

  Any objection I had, he skillfully countered. Part of me thought I had lost my mind—was I really going to marry yet another lawyer, who I barely knew, who was a dozen years or so older than me, AND who had a teenager?